Unexpected Circumstances
by CruorLuna
Summary: What if things had gone very differently that summer? What happens when the Malfoys move into Headquarters? Set at the beginning of OotP. NO SLASH. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't THINK I'm JKR ... hang on ... nope, still not, unfortunately. If I were I wouldn't be writing fanfiction for myself, at any rate ... Or would I?

**A/N:** This is just one of those fics that popped into my head on the bus on my way to the shops the other day, and the ideas just rolled. It's pretty random, set at the beginning of OotP, no spoilers unless you haven't read OotP yet - in which case, are you mad?? And we're pretending Harry's already had his Ministry hearing at the beginning of the summer to fit in with my plot, too. Any mistakes etc, my bad, I apologise now. My first ever Harry Potter fic, so let me know what you think!

**Reviews: **Always welcome :D I even accept flames!!

**Chapter One**

"I swear to God, Harry, you better put it down!"  
"No can do," Harry Potter informed his best friend seriously. "After all, Fred and George need a tester for their Fainting Fancies – and if I don't get you to do it, they'll force them on poor, unsuspecting Ginny. And you wouldn't do that to your poor, innocent sister, would you?" He held in silent giggles as Ron Weasley pondered this question.  
"Why won't they just test them on you?" he muttered darkly. Harry flushed subtly.  
"Because, I'm not their brother – they don't find it as funny," he lied quickly. He didn't think Ron – or Hermione or Mrs Weasley – would find his honest explanation to be an adequate or acceptable one. He had never exactly gotten around to telling them about his part in Fred and George's newfound wealth, with which they were creating an endless stream of joke-shop products, used for the torture and general irritation of the residents of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Harry and his godfather Sirius Black just happened to be exempt from this ritual humiliation, thanks to his quick talking upon coming face to face with the twins for the first time since he had handed over the thousand Galleons prize money from the Triwizard Tournament. He just didn't fancy being a test subject – and he figured, considering all he had done for him, and how he was already cooped up in this dingy house 24/7, Sirius could do without it too.

Of course, the others found this behaviour highly suspicious. Harry and the twins vehemently insisted it was mere coincidence and good luck that he had evaded their traps so far. Sirius had no idea why he was let off, but appeared grateful nonetheless. And really, Harry thought, it was worth the mistrustful looks from his friends and Order members, when a random vomiting spell would take Bill by surprise, or Hestia Jones would suddenly find herself overcome with dizziness, and he could watch his godfather's face split into a wide grin. This unsuppressed mirth – albeit at others' expense – was a rare thing for Sirius these days, and Harry delighted in knowing he was making a difference to his miserable time here, even in an indirect manner.

"Well, I'm not doing it," Ron stated firmly. "The gits can test their own products – I still get nauseous anytime I see tomato soup!" Harry snorted at the memory of Ron's first experience with the infamous Puking Pastilles – the first dose had been rather too strong, the twins had conceded, when Ron's last four days' breakfasts, lunches and dinners had all found themselves mingled with that nights' meal of tomato soup and veggies, all over his place setting. Needless to say, Molly hadn't made tomato soup since – something the twins put down as a bonus, as they had grown tired of it some five years previously.

"Someone has to," Harry taunted, holding out the small chewable 'sweet.' At one point the twins had had the whole household convinced they were chewable vitamins – which had certainly led to some interesting breakfast discussion by those unlucky Order members suffering from extremely high fevers and the resultant hallucinations.

"Harry, Ron!" The boys snapped to attention as Hermione poked her head around the door to their shared bedroom. "There you two are – Ronald's mother says you've to get washed up immediately. There are some Order members coming for dinner, and they want to talk to Harry over the meal, so we've all to look presentable. Now hurry, they'll be here soon!"

And she waltzed away, the door snapping neatly shut behind her. Harry and Ron exchanged glances, conveying a whole range of emotions to one another. There was the usual slight surprise at her brusqueness and bossiness; some exasperation at having to get dressed up to sit with the same people they saw every other day; and over and above all that, an excitement at the prospect of some important discussion with Harry. It was a given that Ron and Hermione would sit in on any of these sorts of conversations, as would the twins. Ginny lamented her exclusion at any given opportunity, but even her puppy dog eyes and pouted lips wouldn't convince her mother to budge.

"What d'you reckon it is, then?" Ron asked Harry in a low whisper as they descended the main stairs into the hallway five minutes later. Scrubbed, brushed and tucked, they looked quite respectable. Or would have done, if Harry's hair wasn't stubbornly sticking up at the back as usual, and if Ron's trousers weren't a fair few inches short for him as a result of his latest growth spurt. But minor details aside, Mrs Weasley's request had been met.  
"No idea," Harry muttered, careful to swerve around the troll's leg umbrella stand that was constantly wreaking havoc on the household when an Order member – more often than not the Auror Nymphadora Tonks, known by surname only under pain of death. For a highly trained Dark wizard-catcher, she really was extraordinarily clumsy. "But whatever it is must be pretty important, if your mum wants us getting all done up for the Order."  
"You know Mum." Ron's eyes rolled heavenward. "She probably only used it as an excuse to get us to 'make an effort.'"

"For once." The boys fell silent and blushed a little as Mrs Weasley examined them from the foot of the kitchen staircase. A quick glance past her allowed Harry to catch the eye of his godfather, slouching at the table with Remus Lupin and Mundungus Fletcher. Sirius shot him a mischievous grin – he found Molly's coddling quite as irritating as Harry did, but somehow he seemed to have a knack for seeing the funny side. Then again, she had long since given up on trying to get him to cut his hair or shave – luckily for Sirius, Harry thought enviously, Molly's manners tended to take precedence. As long as she and her family were guests in Sirius' home – not that he would readily admit it – she would go out of her way to be a good guest: polite and helpful, at least to Sirius, if not to their other guests (Mundungus Fletcher being one of her less favoured acquaintances.) The exception to this rule was when it came to Harry himself, he thought with an uncomfortable squirm of his stomach. She had certainly been wonderful to him – but she wasn't his mother. Sirius was his godfather, something they both often wished Molly would remember.

"Ron, you look … passable," she said now, waving a hand, and he took this as a sign that he could pass – and wasted no time in doing so, scurrying down the stairs into the basement kitchen and flopping into a chair just down from Remus, watching Harry closely.  
"Harry, honestly, doesn't your hair ever behave itself?!" Mrs Weasley asked desperately, her keen eyes focussed on the tufts atop his head. He shrugged, only semi-apologetically.  
"Not that I've ever known of, Mrs Weasley," he said truthfully. A bark of laughter from behind her distracted Molly enough that Harry was able to slip by unnoticed, and before she had time to comment, he had slid into the empty chair on the other side of his godfather, upon whom Mrs Weasley's eyes were now fixed, along with a puzzled look.  
"I don't know what's funny about respectable appearances," she said with a slight frown.

Sirius and Remus both chuckled, and Harry couldn't help grinning along. The two remaining Marauders had developed a wonderful little habit of creating a light-hearted atmosphere around the meal table – the place where Molly was in her element, and most prone to snappish outbursts. Seeing her eyes darken, Remus intervened swiftly before Sirius had a chance to make any sarcastic comment, guaranteed to make her worse.  
"Molly, he didn't mean it," Remus smiled indulgently at Sirius. "We were having a reminiscent moment, is all – James' hair never seemed to lie flat for anything, either."  
"Never lay flat? That's an understatement," Sirius chortled. "It was a right state. At least as bad as Harry's, if not worse," he informed an exasperated Molly. "Now, when are we expecting the rest of our guests?"

His question was answered by a loud clatter from upstairs, followed by a string of very colourful curse words, which were in turn drowned out by bellowing screeches.  
"FILTH! SCUM!! HALF-BREEDS, TRAITORS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!"  
"Oh look," Sirius said, sounding surprisingly chipper, "Mother's awake. Better go engage in the pleasant family tradition of polite morning greetings …" He pushed his chair back with a loud scraping. Remus rolled his eyes and followed him upstairs. A moment later …

"SHUT UP, YOU INFERNAL WOMAN!!"  
"BLOOD-TRAITOR!! SHAME OF MY FLESH!!"  
"YOU STUPID OLD HAG!"  
"SCUM!! FREAKS, UNNATURAL BEASTS, MUTANTS!!"  
"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP, YOU ARROGANT OLD –"  
"SHAPE-SHIFTING BLOOD TRAITOROUS MONGRELS, OUGHT TO BE STRUNG UP BY THE –"  
"SHUT – THE – HELL – UP!!!!!"

"Nice one, Moony," Sirius' voice drifted down the stairs, restored to normal pitch, as he and Remus led the rest of their visitors down into the kitchen. Remus smiled mildly.  
"Yes, well, I thought perhaps pulling the curtains shut would be more effective than your method," he said dryly, sitting back down in front of his mug of tea. "Just my opinion."  
"Know-it-all," Sirius muttered jokingly, sliding back into his own chair. A few moments later, the table was surrounded by various members of the Order of the Phoenix – as well as Sirius, Remus, Mundungus and Molly, the crowd now included Arthur and Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Emmeline Vance, Dedalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, Mad-Eye Moody, Minerva McGonnagall, Rubeus Hagrid, and Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore himself. Harry, Ron and Hermione suddenly felt very out of place, whereas the twins seemed right at home.

"So, this is quite a crowd for tea," George said conversationally. His mother glared at him.  
"George …" she started in a warning tone, but Dumbledore chuckled and held up a hand.  
"No need, Molly," he said quite happily, "he's quite right. Obviously, this is not merely a social call – although I do not pretend not to be greatly looking forward to sampling your delicious cooking." The Weasley matriarch blushed, Sirius and Remus exchanged knowing smirks at Dumbledore's cleverness, and Harry could have sworn the Headmaster tipped him a miniscule wink before turning back to address the table at large once again.  
"As young Mr Weasley has so bluntly reminded us," – George had the good grace to flush red – "we are here for a purpose other than to enjoy what promises to be a spectacular feast." Dumbledore inclined his head gratefully towards Molly, then shot a glance to his left.

"Nymphadora," he said a moment later, and everyone nearby saw the eye-roll made by the young Auror, "perhaps you'd like to tell us why we're here? I think perhaps the tale will have more impact coming from you, whom it has affected most deeply." He bowed slightly before resuming his seat and watching Tonks intently. When all eyes around the table were on her, Remus, who was sitting beside her as usual, gave her a dig in the ribs. She stood up nervously, twiddling a lock of her bright bubblegum pink hair in one hand and trailing the fingers of the other over the polished wood surface of the table. She coughed.  
"Uh … wotcher," she said quietly, shooting nervous glances around the table. This was unusual – Tonks was a vibrant, lively person, and Harry had never seen her anxious before.

"Louder!" called Fred Weasley from the end of the table. "More volume, Nymphadora!" A moment later, there was a gag around Fred's mouth, courtesy of Sirius. Roars of laughter erupted around the tale, even from Dumbledore and McGonnagall, and Tonks threw her cousin a grateful glance. He winked almost imperceptibly, but Harry felt a wave of affection spreading over him. Sirius was always good about defending those he cared for.

"Anyway …" Tonks cleared her throat a bit more loudly, and straightened up. "Yeah, I guess I don't really know where to start, with this … Well, you all know the Malfoys?" A murmur ran around the crowd, and Harry and his friends exchanged startled glances. What on earth did Tonks have to do with the Malfoys? Sirius made a noise of disgust.  
"I love how I'm the 'shame of my mother's flesh' with that lot running around free," he pointed out wryly. "I think we're all familiar with them, Tonks."  
"You're related to the Malfoys?" Harry couldn't help but cut in. "How?!"  
"Narcissa Malfoy is my cousin," Sirius informed him in tones of great distaste. "Not that I care to admit it. She was Narcissa Black growing up. The whole lot of them with their pure-blood mania – she'd never have married Lucius Malfoy if it weren't for her mother."  
"No kidding," Tonks murmured angrily. Hermione's eyebrows drew together.

"What do you have against the Malfoys, Tonks?" she asked. Nobody was stopping them from asking questions, so they continued. The more information they could get, the better.  
"Cissy's my aunt." The Metamorphmagus practically spat out the last word.  
"You mean –?" Harry's head swivelled back to his godfather. "You two are related?"  
"Yeah," Sirius grinned. "Tonks' mother was my favourite cousin. One of the only half-decent people this family ever churned out. 'Course, we've lost touch now."  
"My dad still asks after you, though," Tonks said brightly. "He's a Muggle-born," she informed the kids. "Mum was disowned after marrying him. Family's kind of small now."  
"Her own family disowned your mother just for marrying a Muggle-born?" Ron gasped.  
"Come on, you three," Sirius said, leaning forward. "Surely this house – my mother's portrait – gives you some idea what the Blacks were like? Bunch of blood-traitors, we are – Tonks, Andromeda and me. But we're related to them by blood, no other way."

"Which brings us nicely back on topic," Dumbledore intervened. "Nymphadora?"  
"Oh, right! Well, anyway, I don't think anybody in this room is going to come out and say they love – or even like – the Malfoys," Tonks joked, her voice much stronger. The casual slating of her relatives seemed to have calmed her nerves. "But … well, Sirius, Harry, don't kill me – pretty soon, they're going to need our help. And we have to be ready to give it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**A/N:** Thanks for taking the time to read! I intend to update regularly - I know not much happens in this chapter, I tend to get carried away with my descriptions and all sorts, but if you got this far, then well done you :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Incidentally, JKR does still own the characters and places and everything else in the wizarding world, except for this rather bizarre plot. That happens to be a product of my brain - just in case you couldn't have guessed as much.

**A/N:** Thanks loads to my chapter one reviewers - Kharina, your advice has been taken on board; Belle, you do not own the gits, or if you do then remember to share!! and fifespice, thanks loads for the encouragement:D  
I hate to say it, but I really don't know that much happens in this chapter either lol! More of my ramblings - I tend to come up with those more than anything else - and some random "jokes" although we'll leave it up to you if they were funny or not :P

**Reviews:** I wouldn't complain :P Well, no pressure - but if you have any suggestions or advice I'm happy to take it on board [that goes for the plot too!! Thanks :D

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"You're hilarious, Nymphadora," Sirius informed her later that evening, reclining on the sofa. But his tone of voice made it perfectly plain he was nothing like amused – and his use of her dreaded first name, after defending her to the twins earlier, was a clear warning. The majority of Order members had left already, leaving Sirius, Tonks, Remus, the twins, Harry, Ron and Hermione in the drawing room. Arthur and Molly had retired to bed already, and Ginny was expressly banned from coming anywhere near these talks.

"I don't know what you expected," Tonks replied coolly. "Cissy might have acted like a –"

"Since when was Narcissa Malfoy 'Cissy,' anyway?" Sirius cut in. Tonks flushed a tad.

"Look, her family's in danger. Ever since You-Know-Who's return, he's been putting immense pressure on the Death Eaters who didn't go looking for him earlier. You know, trying to test their loyalty, and all that. He's trying to get Lucius to hand over Draco," she confessed quietly, looking away. This was a detail she had left out of the general account – the last thing the boy needed was to be watched as closely as Harry was.

Harry looked up, surprised, and he, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George all exchanged looks.

"Look, Tonks …" Hermione began hesitantly. "I know you want to see the best in your family, but in all honesty, Draco Malfoy, he … well, he's got a reputation … he can be …"

"If his father were to hand him over to You-Know-Who, he'd probably roll up his sleeve and beg for a new tattoo," Fred chimed in bluntly. "He loves the Dark Arts, that one does."

"Slimy git," Ron muttered. Remus raised his eyebrows over the book he'd been reading.

"Funny," he said in a thoughtful voice, "when I taught Draco, I never got that impression. Don't misunderstand me," he added hurriedly, seeing the shocked and sceptical glances aimed at him from around the room, "he was certainly rude. And he never seemed to have much respect for authority. Arrogant, oh yes. And I don't suppose he gave much heed to others' feelings. But he's a young boy. He's fifteen. If it weren't for his pure-blood obsession, I would have said he was just like us when we were at Hogwarts, Sirius." This comparison earned him a look that clearly showed Sirius was not impressed. It was one of those 'if looks could kill' moments. Remus merely shrugged and lowered his gaze to focus on his book again.

"He's a Slytherin," George pointed out. As Fred and Ron nodded, Harry's resolve wavered.

"Being a Slytherin … it doesn't make you evil," he said carefully. He could have sworn he saw a faint smile cross Remus' face behind the text. The boys gaped at him.

"You're kidding, right?" Ron scorned. "You of all people, defending Malfoy? He's a git!"

"I never said he wasn't a git," Harry grinned. "But you can't use being a Slytherin against him. I mean … the Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin, first year. It was this close."

These words were met by shocked stares from the younger generation. Remus didn't even look up from his book, and both Sirius and Tonks grinned widely in Harry's direction.

"That's exactly my point, Harry!" Tonks said earnestly. Harry glanced at Sirius – why had he been grinning? There was no way he was pleased about Harry defending Malfoy.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, the Malfoys are all arrogant berks," he said, waving a hand airily and earning a glare from Tonks for his trouble. "But I know what you mean about Slytherins. Bloody Hat – tried to stick me in, because my whole family so far had been in it. I told it exactly what would happen to it if I wound up in Slytherin. I hated the lot of them – the thing probably did it to spite me! Anyway, even if I had been shoved in there – and thank Merlin I wasn't! – I'd still be me. It's not the house that makes the man."

Harry grinned appreciatively at Sirius. He still thought Draco Malfoy was a serious jerk, and he would never forgive him for everything he'd done to Harry and his friends, from calling Hermione a 'Mudblood' to impersonating an all-too-realistic Dementor in order to make Harry fall from his broom during a Quidditch match in his third year. But if anybody understood the threat of Voldemort coming after you, and those you held dearest, Merlin knew, it was Harry. And at that thought, something hit him – something he'd certainly never expected to feel. Pity – pity, for Draco Malfoy. And worse than that … empathy.

Remus' eyes were watching Harry surreptitiously over his book. How long he'd been doing so, Harry didn't know, but he was suddenly aware of the fact. The man was sharp.

"Narcissa," – everyone noted the renewed use of the woman's full name – "is a lot of things," Tonks conceded. "But they never went looking for You-Know-Who after he fell, and I honestly believe that it's only out of fear they've returned. Lucius is a malicious man, I don't deny that … but he's built a life for himself, a life that doesn't have You-Know-Who at the centre of it. I think he'd be hard pushed to recreate his old life just like that."

"And if you're wrong?" Hermione spoke up quietly. "What if the Malfoys do go back to his side, Tonks? We can't put the Order at risk like that! Don't you see how dangerous it is?"

"Dumbledore agrees with me," Tonks said simply. "He understands Cissy's position."

"I swear, Nymphadora, if you call her 'Cissy' one more time …" Sirius muttered.

"Then you'll do to me what I'll do to you if you call me Nymphadora again!" she snapped.

"Touché," Remus said mildly, not glancing up. Sirius rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Well of course you'd take her side, Moony," he scoffed. "I mean, I completely understand why, of course. She'll never jump your bones if you torment her half as much as I do."

A stunned silence followed these words, in which Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged quite startled glances; Fred and George made valiant but useless efforts to bore holes in Remus' book with their eyes; Tonks turned bright pink; and Sirius lounged back in his armchair quite casually. Remus simply turned a page, barely batting an eyelid at the implication, and managing to retain his skin's usual – although unnatural – greyish hue.

"Padfoot, as ever you demonstrate all the logic and maturity of a five-year-old," he said serenely, still not even looking up from his book. "And a five-year-old Weasley, at that."

"Hey!" Fred, George and Ron all protested aloud. Tonks, Harry and Hermione, on the other hand, all snorted loudly at this, and a slight smile flickered over Remus' features.

"If you think the old high-and-mighty approach is going to deter me, you're severely mistaken, Moony," Sirius informed his friend, pointing his wand at the fireplace so the dying embers roared back to life. "And neither is avoidance, before you even bother."

"I don't believe anybody was avoiding anything," Remus replied, finally closing his book and eyeing his friend with mild interest. "I wasn't aware I had been asked a question."

"You're avoiding confronting the implication, which was that you WANTED Tonks to jump your bones." The twins let out loud wolf-whistles and Tonks' face flushed again.

"I most certainly was not. I was trying to spare you the embarrassment of the reality that perhaps you don't know as much about what goes on around here as you'd like to think."

"Which means what, exactly?" Sirius challenged, sitting up a little straighter. Remus merely shrugged as he got to his feet and picked up his book, glancing around the room.

"For one thing, you're always jumping to conclusions about how we all feel," he pointed out quietly. "And for another … you have an awful habit of making assumptions about us."

"I do nothing of the sort." All eyes in the room swivelled between the two Marauders. Considering the argumentative nature of their exchange, Harry found it remarkable that both men were still smiling faintly, and neither showed any signs of anger at the other.

"You most certainly do," Remus countered smoothly. "Why else would you presume to imply that Tonks wasn't already – as you so delicately put it – 'jumping my bones'?"

The room fell silent once more. Sirius gaped at his old friend quite openly; Harry shot a shocked glance at the twins, who looked as though Christmas had come early; Hermione gazed at Tonks uncertainly; and Ron stared into the fireplace uncomfortably. Remus smiled calmly, shifting his book from to the other hand and lifting his cloak from the chair.

"I think I'll turn in," he said mildly. "Goodnight, all." He bestowed a smile upon the younger ones; a smirk and a raised eyebrow on Sirius – and then when he was halfway out the door, Harry could swear he saw Remus tip Tonks a wink, and hear her giggle so quietly he could have imagined it. And maybe he had, he thought bemusedly, when a split-second later the door snapped shut, and Tonks was staring daggers at her cousin, who just happened to be returning the favour at that particular moment in time. Harry felt a horrid sense of foreboding – two angry Blacks at odds? That equated to bad news, in his book.

"Where the hell do you get off?!" Tonks snapped, jumping from her seat and storming across the room so she and Sirius were face to face, as he got to his feet determinedly.

"Don't you put this on me!" he said just as heatedly, and for the first time, Harry got to see a side of his godfather he only ever saw in its restrained form. "You're the one who's been up to Merlin knows what with my best friend – in MY house, I might add, Nymph! And this is how I find out about it?! You should be ashamed – don't dare blame me for it!"

"Oh, what are you, sixteen?!" she spat. Hermione now looked thoroughly frightened, and the twins were exchanging muttered bets with Ron about who would win. "For one, Remus never said we HAD been up to anything, he said you were ASSUMING we hadn't! Which, incidentally, was true! And even if we have been, it's certainly none of your business!"

"It's my business when he's twelve years older than you! You reckon Andie would be happy to hear about this? You don't think she'd castrate me if I didn't step in?!"

"That's your problem, dear cousin," Tonks replied, her voice cooling so quickly it startled the others. "Besides, I don't know what you think you have on me. You can't bully me, Sirius – threaten to report to my mother. If you were going to do that, you'd need proof. Which you have absolutely none of. So don't try to intimidate me – it won't work." Clearly, this was one-nil to Tonks, in the twins' opinions. Fred grinned, and George sighed.

"Since when did a Black woman need proof of anything?" Sirius retorted, and George sat up, looking hopeful. "I give Andromeda Black the slightest clue that something might be a bit off with her precious daughter, she'll haul you in for a dose of Veritaserum and the harshest interrogation of your life – including the ones you get to dish out, Auror Tonks."

"You had better not, or I'll hurt you more than if you call me by my first name!"

"Tell me the truth about your relationship with Remus, and I'll think about it!"

Fred and George seemed to have stopped breathing completely by this point. It was certainly a tough call – which of them was more stubborn and angrier? Hard to tell.

"I'll tell you nothing," Tonks hissed angrily, and with a loud 'crack!' she Disapparated from the scene. Hermione seemed frozen with a hand over her mouth. Ron resumed his focus on the dancing flames. The twins began arguing quietly about whose victory it was. Harry, however, was focussed on his godfather. Sirius turned towards him, and upon seeing his concerned face, let out a very loud, very startling, bark of laughter, and his eyes twinkled.

"That," he said, slumping back in his chair, "was bloody funny. Accio firewhiskey!"

A moment later, a bottle came flying through the door, which had opened itself, and straight into Sirius' hand. He took off the lid, waved his wand, and two glasses appeared. Another flick of the wand and one soared over to land on the table in front of Harry.

"But, Sirius …" Harry said, attempting to sound unsure, but the glass of firewhiskey was already in his hand as he spoke. Sirius let out another laugh and raised his own glass.

"I'm the legal guardian here," he said, grinning, and the twins looked up, appearing thoroughly disgruntled. "The odd drink under supervision won't do you any harm. I should know … besides, you're just like your father. And James could handle his drink … mostly."

"Well, in that case …" Harry felt his own face split into a grin, and he lifted the glass to his lips. Before he could take a drink, however, there was an uproar to his left.

"Why does Harry get to drink firewhiskey?!"

"He's not even of age in our world, never mind in Muggle drinking terms!"

"How come WE couldn't have an escaped convict for a godfather?!"

"Stupid law-abiding parents!"

"Harry, that stuff's supposed to be horrible," Hermione cut the twins' ramblings off sharply.

"Nonsense," Sirius scoffed. "It's great! And your parents have to decide what they think is best for you – I do what's best for Harry," he informed the twins. "A little taste now, when I can make sure he's okay, is better than him going out on a bender to try and look cool."

"I'll drink to that!" Harry laughed, grateful as ever that Sirius treated him with respect.

"How about we drink to Remus and Tonks?" Sirius smirked. "The resident lovebirds."

"That really was awful of you," Hermione said reproachfully. "Tonks seemed really upset!"

"Tonks is half-Black," he scorned. "She could do with some emotional toughening up."

"You really are a twisted soul, aren't you, Padfoot?"

All heads turned sharply to see Remus entering the room again, still wearing his irksomely calm expression. He raised an eyebrow at the stares, and began looking around the room.

"Thought you went to bed?" Sirius challenged him, sitting down his glass determinedly.

"I left one of my other books down here," Remus mused distractedly. "The one I was reading is interesting, but more for research purposes than a good bedtime read, so …"

"Only you and Hermione would read two books at once," Ron said disbelievingly.

"Hermione's a clever girl," Remus responded, inclining his head towards her politely.

"So you heard everything, then?" Sirius pressed him. Remus lifted a book from a shelf.

"Not at all. Just you rambling about 'emotional toughening up.' And incidentally, Padfoot, most people do retain some form of emotional weakness. You may allow it to slide off your back like water off a duck's, but the majority of us do actually feel these things."

"Bit defensive there, aren't you, Moony?" Sirius said, narrowing his eyes. "Well, Tonks wouldn't tell me a thing – how about you explain to me exactly what you've been up to?"

"Now we both know that's highly unlikely. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really am off to bed this time – and you do know that Harry's too young to be drinking that, don't you?"

"Fully aware of it," Sirius said cheerfully. Remus, to Harry's surprise, grinned at that.

"Harry, it's a good thing you're like your dad. Once he gets started, he will get thoroughly sloshed, so I'll leave it to you to keep him in line. I have no doubt you'll do a fine job, being James' son through and through. Goodnight." And he closed the door after him.

"Where were we?" Sirius seemed decidedly unperturbed by his friend's attitude, as he turned his attention back to the firewhiskey before him. "Ah, yes! A toast, I think."

Harry quickly raised his own glass, ignoring the glowers Fred, Ron and George were all shooting him, and the disapprovingly pursed lips gracing Hermione's face.

"Here's to … you," Sirius said, tilting his glass to Harry. "The Boy Who Lived, everyone's lost track of how many times; a wonderful godson; an extraordinary wizard … and a credit to your parents." Harry's eyes shone with tears. "They'd be so proud if they were here to see you today, Harry. And I know I'm proud of you. I just hope I can do them proud too."

"You already have," Harry promised. The two men toasted one another, and Sirius downed his entire glass in one mouthful. Harry hesitated a tad, with the eyes of everyone in the room on him, before taking a sip.

The drink seemed to burn his throat, and he gagged, but then something odd happened. The burning sensation was almost … pleasant. And as the liquid hit his stomach, it warmed his insides rather enjoyably. And then there was the aftertaste! He grinned broadly, and followed Sirius' lead, swallowing the whole lot at once. Shaking himself slightly, he grinned even wider at the looks of shock and indignation scattered over his friends' faces.

"That," he said smugly, "was fantastic." Sirius shot him a brief smile and a tiny wink.

"Are you serious?" George said almost longingly, staring at the now empty glass.

"No, George – that's Sirius," said Fred, pointing, and everyone rolled their eyes.

"Excuse me while I throw up," said a slow, drawling voice from the doorway. All joking forgotten, Harry, Ron and the twins all glared simultaneously towards the shadowy figure; Hermione looked away uncomfortably, and Sirius got slowly to his feet, hatred etched into the deep lines of his face. Draco Malfoy stepped forwards, but Sirius continued to glower at the doorframe. A moment later, a thin, anxious looking woman stepped through it.

"Sirius!" she gasped breathily, looking sincerely frightened and nervous. Draco's eyes widened in shock, and he took several steps back from the 'criminal' facing him.

"Hello, Narcissa," Sirius said coldly. "I see you found your way to my house."

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**A/N:** Wow I really don;t think I like how this one ended ... ah well! Already partway through chapter 3 so I should be updating regularly as promised, and thanks again for taking the time to read my drabbles:D


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